Cut It Off (Part 5) free porn video

We climbed into a car inside a garage this time, not risking walking naked into broad daylight. The tinted windows were sufficient for the head of House Slave and his driver – the man I had watched a few hours earlier as his lover ate a sausage out of his stretched pee hole. I had a lot of admiration for him and hoped to see him close up some day in the future.

In the backseat, I accepted the offer of nullo road head from the head of house, resting my calves on his shoulders while he licked my infibulated cunt. The driver looked bemused as he watched us in the rearview mirror.

The drive was only long enough for me to start getting wet. Then we were at the warehouse again.

“You are ready?” he asked between strokes of his tongue along my sewn slit.

It was difficult, but I nodded. He cleaned up the juice slowly leaking from my tiny hole.

Inside, I expected to find a crowd, but the only people there were the heads of House Switch and House Pain, and strangely, the boy from House Switch that lost almost all of the tissue between his legs after angering the cutter.

The three in charge stood together side by side. The boy stood a distance away, toying with his hole and making very direct eye contact with me.

“Have you made your decision?” asked the red-headed woman from Switch.

Her headless clit still fascinated me. I wanted to know the story.

“I choose House Pain.”

The boy stepped forward and stroked my hole. He held up my pussy juice. The head of House Pain strode forward, seized his wrist, and sucked my sexual fluids from his fingers.

“You belong to my house now.”

I hoped I had made the right decision, but I couldn’t miss the disappointment and misgiving in the eyes of the boy and the man who had just eaten my cunt.

I could hear them walking away as the head of my house loomed before me. I would have recognized his cock anywhere. He had about an inch, but it had been cut into quarters and pulled open. The hole was easily large enough to one of my fingers. It resembled a flower in some ways.

His face, however, I felt I was seeing for the first time. He looked more chiseled than most guys I had seen and wore his dark brown hair in a fashionable buzz cut. His chest was muscular, but almost hairless. His nipples were gone. All that remained were two jagged lines of scar tissue where they had been entirely removed from his body.

“So how long until somebody misses you?” he asked.

In another situation, that might have sounded menacing, but somehow, from him, both of us standing there naked, it sounded curious and surprisingly kind.

I considered the question. I was on summer break between my junior and senior year of college. I was staying in the city. I almost never heard from my parents. Most people I knew at school were traveling, studying abroad, or had gone home.

“Maybe six weeks.”

“I could break you and put you back together three times in six weeks. Most of my new family has three or four days to work with,” he told me.

He trailed his fingers down my chest and stomach. He stopped at the beginning of my stitches, the place where my clit had been.

“They tell you what I do with these?”

“Yes.”

“They tell you that the women always ask to be cut open again?”

I shook my head. I didn’t quite believe him, but I had no real reason to mistrust what he was telling me.

“Did you enjoy getting cut and sewn up?”

“Yes…it was amazing.”

“Too bad you can only do it once, right?”

I nodded.

He grinned and said, “I’ve cut on and sewn the same woman five times now. It’s never as good as the first, but she begs me for it. Maybe you’ll want that too someday?”

I swallowed hard, but didn’t reply. I knew I would want it, knowing that was an option now.

“I’m going to bite you and mark you as the property of House Pain. Where do you want the bite? And, no, I won’t bite your pussy. Not yet and not for this.”

“My breast.”

I lifted my chest to present them to him.

“That’s a really boring choice,” he said, reaching down and cupping my right breast in his hand.

He leaned down and took my scorched areole in his mouth and bit down hard. I felt his teeth against my skin. Then I felt them break through. I gasped in pain, but deep inside, my cunt throbbed with need. His hands grasped my arms and held me in place as his teeth sank even deeper. My head lolled back. I could feel blood starting to trickle down my side.

He squeezed hard with his hands. My eyes closed as I felt his teeth meet. He gritted them together. I cried out from the pain and shock. My body convulsed in his hands. My pussy started to ache as it produced more fluid than could escape my matchstick sized hole. My right areole pulled free.

He turned and spat it over his shoulder without letting go.

“I don’t know why so many of you are like this about your breasts,” he said in a half-annoyed tone.

His teeth suddenly closed on my left areole. I whimpered. He pulled me close enough to feel his splayed cock against my seam. He made a pleased sound as he felt my moisture. He bit down harder on my left nipple, sinking into the skin. He was in more of a hurry this time and ripped the areole away before completely severing it. My knees started to give.

“No, you fucking don’t,” he said, shaking me. “You chose where to take my bite. Next time think harder. An ass-bite is like nothing. Same with your thigh or your calf.”

I nodded that I understood and clamped my hands to my bleeding breasts.

“Come on,” he said, stepping back, “and I’ll sew you up in the car.”

I followed him through the warehouse to a side entrance. My breath was coming in ragged gasps. We exited into an alley where a van was idling. He opened the door and gave me a hand up into a cargo area before following and closing the door.

He grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the floor and gestured to a hook in the ceiling. I held my arms up and let him cuff me. He looped the chain over the hook.

My breasts were streaming blood and ached with pain from the bites.

He went to the front of the van and spoke to the driver, who handed him a first aid kit.

“Five minutes,” he said, before coming back to me.

He opened the kit and removed a packet containing a needle and clear thread. Obviously, sewing wounds closed was common enough to have that on hand.

He wiped some of the blood away from my right breast with a gauze pad and began stitching the bite closed without saying a word to me. I struggled not to make any noise, but occasional sounds worked their way out of me. Having my pussy sewn shut was in some ways less painful.

True to his word, he was quick with it, sewing them closed in a matter of moments and all but stopping the bleeding.

“Drive,” he called out after finishing.

Two jagged lines of stitches crossed my breasts. Imagining what they would look like healed, I was glad he had done it.

The road noise was terrible, making it impossible to communicate. He wedged a thigh under my leaking cunt and braced a hand against the side of the vehicle. He smirked a little at how wet I was. Every time we hit a bump or pot hole, my pussy banged against the hard muscle of his thigh. Whenever the driver braked, I slid up him and then back when he hit the gas again.

He held up his free hand in a v shape and pantomimed licking the center of the v.

By the time we pulled into a garage and stopped, I was half-crazy with lust from the constant stimulation and both of our thighs were slick with pussy juice.

“Enjoy the ride?”

I nodded mutely, unable to form words.

The driver came around and opened the door, but no move was made to unhook me.

“Eat her cunt,” he instructed the driver, withdrawing his thigh.

The driver was about my age and had the standard anatomy of a nullo, except that his fold had been pierced. He pulled my legs up and over his broad shoulders. His mouth was all over my pussy until he found my hole. He licked me to see how much was coming out and when he found as I was full almost to bursting, began sucking hard at my hole.

I gasped as he sucked me progressively harder, slurping the pussy juice out of me with more force than any other partner had used so far. I felt my cunt spasm from the suction and I let out a soft cry of pleasure. He kept sucking me after my pussy had emptied, until it started becoming painful and I writhed in a heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Stop.”

He dropped me without any ceremony and wiped my juices from his face with his arm. The handcuffs caught me and kept me upright.

“I feel like I just drank a quart of egg whites,” he said, and I don’t think he meant that in a complimentary way.

“Tell one of the boys you’re entitled to some time with their hole.”

He nodded and scooted out of the van without another word.

The head of house checked my pussy.

“That was some good service he gave you. Only men get him going,” he informed me.

“I wouldn’t have known,” I said as he rubbed my sticky seam.

“That’s how I intend it. He serves me well, whatever I tell him to do.”

“Is that how it works here?”

“We have only three kinds of people in House Pain. Those who give pain, those who receive pain, and those who do both as the need takes them.”

He slipped his fingers under me and curled his index finger into my asshole.

“I intend to find out which one you are and teach you how to use that to further your own pleasure.”

He held my gaze as he fingered me.

“I guess I should show you the house,” he said, pulling out and reaching for the handcuffs.

I expected him to leave them on, but instead he opened them with a subtle maneuver that I couldn’t quite follow, like a magic trick.

I followed him out of the van and into a dimly lit underground garage. It was empty except for the van with parking for several more cars. I wondered if it occupied the same sort of building as House Slave.

He led me to an elevator and hit the button for the top floor. He spun me around to face the back of the elevator as it started up. He hooked his left arm around my neck. I grabbed his arm reflexively. The elevator left the darkened garage, revealing that it was glass on one side. A busy street came into view as we rose.

“Touch your pussy,” he demanded.

I let go of his arm with one hand and ran my fingers along my seam as we rose. A thrill ran through me at the thought of being seen by drivers and pedestrians going about their everyday lives. I relaxed and stroked myself.

He relaxed his grip too and stepped beside me. I wondered which of us would draw more attention. His right hand drifted to his splayed cock as we continued to rise.

“They can’t see us. One-way glass. But it’s nice to pretend.”

“I enjoy being looked at…like this,” I admitted.

“Me too. I don’t feel fully alive unless someone is watching.”

He pressed the stop button on the elevator at about three stories up. Someone below would have seen us masturbating and probably done a double-take as they saw his unusual cock and my sewn up pussy. I imagined a woman my age seeing us and dropping her purse, suddenly overcome with fear and lust. She would unzip her jeans, reach inside, and begin furiously rubbing her hard clit.

I moaned softly at the thought.

“Your exhibitionism becomes you.”

“Yours too,” I managed, panting.

We continued self-pleasuring for several minutes.

“Are you nice and wet?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t want to introduce you with a dry cunt,” he said, restarting the elevator.

Moments later the elevator opened on a large open space with windows on three sides. I took in the views of the city and the golden natural light pouring into the room. Then I gradually became aware of the equipment – a St. Andrew’s cross, two metal racks, several leather benches with restraints, an exam table, a bed in the corner, and counter space covered with tools that included flogs, whips, lengths of chain, and trays of knives and medical equipment.

My pussy throbbed inside at the sight of it all.

He guided me into the room with a hand on my lower back.

“You will learn about all of this soon enough.”

A door opened to our right and the nurse emerged, followed by familiar faces from my initiation. I could not remember them all, but then, there had been so many. They lined up for the head of their house and clasped their hands together behind their backs. He walked the line, slapping his open hand against each of their crotches in a much different greeting than the one preferred by House Slave.

“We have a new member for our house.”

He gestured for me to come forward.

“I want you all to make her welcome. I bit off her nipples, so be mindful of her breasts,” he informed them, pulling my arms behind me and nudging my legs open a bit wider using his knee.

A queue formed with the nurse at the back. As each house member stepped up to me, they struck my infibulated pussy and gave it a squeeze. At first, it was startling, but then I began to get wet again. The blows were very individualistic. No two were the same.

Finally, it was the nurse’s turn. I held my pussy out to him. I could see his fold was slick with pre-cum, just from watching his housemates take their turns. He slapped my pussy hard, right across the seam, making a very satisfying smack as his hand connected. He squeezed, running his middle finger along my taint, and then stepped away.

The head of house let go of my arms and walked to the cross.

“She will begin her test here. Who will submit to her?”

The nurse stepped forward. He smiled and shrugged.

My heart started to pound. I was supposed to inflict pain? Curiously, this wasn’t something I had considered prior to that moment. I had focused on the other side of the coin – receiving pain. What if I couldn’t?

“This should be interesting. I can see you’re already wet for her,” said the head of house, reaching down and opening the nurse’s fold.

He was almost comically wet, as though he had just cum.

“Don’t I deserve a little fun sometimes?”

He snorted and said, “You get every one of them first. That not enough fun for you?”

“A guy can’t go back for seconds?”

“Fine, fine. Just try not to dom from below.”

“Never!” he laughed.

The head of house turned to me and said, “So your first test is to inflict pain. How well you handle it will determine whether you give or don’t give pain in this house. If you find it joyless, well, that happens, but try to open yourself up to the possibility that you might be better equipped to give than just receive.”

I nodded that I understood and followed the nurse to the St. Andrews cross. The excitement glinting in his eyes made me feel better. He had been described as ***********ively submissive. Didn’t that mean this was kind of an honor?

The nurse took a practiced step up onto the foot rests of the x-shaped cross. His legs spread so wide that his fold opened a little.

Behind me, his housemates began taking seats around the room. Obviously, they planned to watch and enjoy themselves. The head of house brought me a rolling cart with a variety of tools on it, including padded wrist and ankle cuffs.

“If you don’t know what something is, you can ask,” he told me.

I nodded.

“You scared?”

I nodded again and said, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Then we get to watch you lose your virginity. More fun for us,” he said with laugh.

He slapped my ass and pushed me lightly toward the cart.

I picked up the ankle cuffs, knowing what they were used for and figuring it would take the edge off to start with the mundane necessities.

The nurse smiled at me as I positioned his right ankle and got the cuff and chain around him and the cross. I pulled it tight and made enough eye contact for him to nod encouragingly. I was unable to help myself. I reached up and ran a finger down his slit. He sucked in a breath. He was soaked. I licked my finger. He grinned. I lightly slapped his fold. The second cuff went on quickly.

The wrist cuffs were more challenging because of the height of the cross. He took the opportunity to sniff me as I worked to affix the first cuff. I pushed his head back and bit his throat, nipping him with my teeth just below his Adam’s apple.

He moaned, and I remembered that he liked being bitten. I filed that away for future use.

I wasn’t sure the cuffs were tight enough, but I felt clumsy enough without checking them. I trusted he wasn’t going to try to free himself. What would be the point?

Now it was time to look at the tools I’d been given. I walked over to the cart and picked up a leather flog. I had never held one before. I ran the individual strands of leather through my fingers. How much would it hurt? Would he enjoy it? Only one way to find out.

I turned back to him with the flog in hand. He relaxed and closed his eyes. I swung the flog and let it connect with his chest. He made a small, pleased sound. I stepped back a little and swung it against his left side, then his right. Yes, he was definitely enjoying it.

“Harder,” he whispered, opening his eyes a little.

His housemates laughed a little behind me. Of course he was accustomed to pain. Probably nothing in the room was beyond what he could take.

I rolled my shoulders to relieve the tension I felt. Then I decided to let go and see what would happen.

The flog made a much more satisfying sound when I put some force behind it, and so did he. ***********ive or not, he enjoyed having the front of his body flogged, especially his inner thighs and soft pectoral muscles. I was scared to strike him across his slit until he offered it to me.

The flog came back damp with pre-cum and he growled with pleasure.

“That’s the way,” a woman encouraged me from the crowd of onlookers.

I reached up and stroked just to the left and right of his damp slice before flogging him several times across his proffered groin. He rattled the cross with the third strike. I moved my attention back to his thighs, causing him more frustration than relief.

I patted his slit and felt that he was hard beneath the skin, the way he had been when we had met at the hospital, when I had first enjoyed him.

I returned the flog to the cart and ***********ed a narrow paddle. I hefted it in my hand to get a feel for it. As I stepped back up to the cross, he nodded very slightly in encouragement.

I started along his outer thighs, warming them with short, firm swats from the instrument. I tried a few experimental smacks to his calves.

“How about here?” I asked him, tapping the top of his mons.

“Yes…please.”

I moved it a little lower.

“Or here?”

“…yes, there,” he moaned.

I caressed his slit with the edge.

“Not here?”

“Yes, there. Perfect, right there.”

I gave him a warning love-tap before mercilessly paddling the spot where his cock had been. He writhed and twisted, but did not fully try to pull away. I felt his pre-cum spatter from the paddle strikes.

People behind me were moaning as they pleasured themselves and each other.

Then I stopped. His head was thrown back.

I slipped a finger into his fold and pushed hard against his hole. He was rock hard around it.

I tossed the paddle away.

“I’m going to bite you.”

“Please, please…” he begged.

I could tell he needed release.

“But not yet.”

He groaned with frustration as I pulled my finger away and lightly slapped his fold.

I stepped back to the cart and found something small enough to insert into his hole. It was a sound with tiny metal beads along its length.

His eyes widened slightly when he saw it.

“Good thing you’re so wet.”

I rubbed the sound along his slit to lubricate it. He was leaking pre-cum at an impressive rate.

I inserted just the tip and twisted it, stimulating just the opening of his hole. He moaned and writhed on the cross.

When I was ready, I gradually began feeding the sound into his hole. The beads were only just small enough to fit. He was so tight. I pulled the sound out and then pushed it all the way back in. His back arched and he made a small sound of discomfort and need.

“I’m going to fuck you with this. Then when I’m ready…” I nipped the top of his thigh.

“Yes…please fuck me.”

I pumped his hole hard with the sounder, eventually getting small cries out of him, along with an incredible amount of fluid. I could tell he was beyond ready.

I steeled myself and yanked the sound out of him with as much force as I could muster. He roared. My mouth went to his hole and I bit down on the surrounding hard tissue, sinking into his skin and giving him a hard suck. His second roar was accompanied by a flood of cum into my mouth. I shook my head to simulate biting off his cock.

“…yes,” he screamed.

I swallowed his cum and pull away.

I looked over my shoulder to find my watchers furiously masturbating, trying hard to get off from what they had just seen. I watched a nullo shoot a load onto a clitless woman’s open gape. She was thrashing, but unable to get off. Our head of house had his finger in his hole up to the knuckle.

I turned back to see my erstwhile victim grinning again and trembling a little from the hard cum.

“That was hot.”

“Thanks. Do I get you down now?”

“Nah, just call for cleanup. Someone else will do it.”

I reached up and stroked the outside of his moist fold and asked quietly, “Is this a one-time thing or can we do it again?”

“If it were my decision, we would do this as often as you like. Let’s see how that goes.”

I turned away and called out, “Cleanup!”

The nullo who had unloaded on the still masturbating clitless woman left his spot on the floor and rushed forward to clean his slit and let him down from the cross. The head of house waved me closer with his free hand, continuing to pump his hole with a thick index finger.

“That was good. A little light, but good.”

“Thanks. I liked fucking his hole. And the paddle.”

“Let me feel your pussy.”

I stepped closer and he reached down and stroked my seam. I only realized when he touched me that I wasn’t wet anymore. I was a little aroused, but not like I had been during the traditional greeting.

He pulled his finger out and showed me the pre-cum that coated it.

“That was more enjoyable for me than it was for you.”

“I was nervous.”

“I don’t doubt that, but if you truly loved inflicting pain, you would have overcome that.”

“So what happens now?”

He nodded toward where my victim was being let off the cross.

“You’re going up there and he’s going to teach you about taking pain. He has some soft spots that I don’t, but he is a master of sadism with few equals. I was able to make you cum with brute force. What you do under his spell should be very interesting.”

He called for a ten minute break for cleanup and hydration. I needed to piss, but didn’t see any catheters lying conveniently around.

An older man noticed my search and found a packet for me in a drawer.

“I’ll drink you, if you’d like,” he offered.

I followed him to a bench and lay down with my legs open for him. He licked my hole to help the catheter go in more easily. Something about a stranger licking me and then drinking my piss got me going. Doing this in a room full of people? That was an added bonus.

He used the catheter to fuck my pee hole before actually fully inserting it. I squirmed with both pain and pleasure. He sucked the urine out of me with such force that I felt a mild cramp and flexed my feet in response. He moaned and gripped my feet in his hands.

He gave me a few long slow licks after pulling the tube out of me.

Gesturing to his fold, he asked, “Can I hump yours?”

I nodded and braced myself with my hands. He was a lot like the nurse. I felt erect tissue under the skin as he pressed his slit to my seam and rubbed against me.

“I want to choke you.”

I nodded and tilted my head back. He continued the frottage and put his hands around my neck. I could feel his pre-cum running down my sewn pussy. He was rock hard, what was left of him.

His hands tightened faster than I expected, robbing me of the ability to breathe. His hips sped up and he moaned with pleasure as he watched me begin to struggle. As I grappled with the panic of being unable to breathe, my cunt began to throb with pleasure from the choking and the rough fuck I was getting. I made a soft sound as I ejaculated.

“Oh, yes,” he moaned, feeling the fluid coming out of me.

He shot his load onto my sloppy cunt, not stopping his thrusts until he had completely emptied out. I was in ecstasy and brought my hands up to stop him from releasing my throat. I bucked my hips against his slit. He obliged by continuing to rub his sensitive hole along my stitched seam.

My vision started to darken around the edges. I was close to orgasm, but knew I wouldn’t be able to get there. I released his hands. He let go of my neck, gently stroking my throat before pulling away from me.

“That was so good,” he told me.

“I’ve never been choked before. That was hot.”

“You get so wet…” he said, touching my seam. “Fucking you feels amazing.”

Our head of house walked up and looked at my pussy.

“Nice. You going to clean her up? She’s going to be on that cross in two minutes.” he said.

My partner practically dove between my legs, knowing an order when he heard one. I opened wide and enjoyed his enthusiastic mouth licking every drop of cum, his and mine, from my still quivering cunt. Our head of house watched for a few moments before nodding to me and going on his way.

I enjoyed the cleaning, but my eyes were on the cross the entire time, wondering what it would be like to be on display like that and what sort of pain would be inflicted.

“God, you’re getting wet again,” said the guy licking my seam.

“Good. I want her wet,” said the nurse from behind me. I don’t know how long he had been watching.

I leaned back and smiled at him.

“Time to go,” he told me, gesturing for my partner to take a hike.

He helped me up from the bench and eyed my still-slippery cunt with an arched eyebrow. His expression conveyed a sense of approval. He nodded toward the cross.

I expected it to be an ill fit, because he was somewhat taller than me and fit perfectly, but someone had adjusted the angle and foot placements to accommodate me. When I stepped up, I fit perfectly on the cross.

In front me, the house was gathering again to watch. The head of house had a man kneeling at his feet and drinking his piss before we started. Several women with open cunts were being eaten already, mostly by other women who appeared to be closed. I envied the women with their faces buried in their housemates’ cunts. They looked like they were enjoying themselves. Would that be me someday? Later today?

The nurse picked up fresh ankle cuffs from the cart of tools he had at his disposal. A glance at the cart made me realize that he had chosen the tools himself. They were different than what had been provided for me.

He connected my ankles to the cross, pulling my legs as far open as they would go. My stitches pulled taut. I loved the feeling. He stepped between my legs and stroked my seam. I moaned in surprise as he leaned in and licked my opening.

“Stop trying to make it with her juice dispenser. This isn’t House Switch. No one’s here to see that,” called our head of house.

The nurse turned and said, “I like how she tastes.”

“On your own time. Get this moving.”

He gave me a rueful look and a light slap across my seam. Then he began fastening my arms to the cross, forcing me to stretch. I wondered how long I would be holding this position. I wondered how long I could maintain it.

He went to the tray of tools and ***********ed what looked like a blunt hook connected to a short length of chain from among the various implements. Then he walked behind me. I felt his finger stroke my asshole. The he began rubbing the end of the hook against my wet pussy.

My face must have given away my uncertainty. Several of my housemates laughed.

Once the hook was coated, he began to slowly slide it into my ass. I did my best to relax and take it, but the end was larger than anything I had had inside me since the cutter’s massive cock. I made a low sound of pain as it slid all the way into my hole.

“On your toes.”

I complied and felt the hook being attached to the cross and then adjusted slightly. I was hanging by hook in my ass, my feet barely touching the foot rests. I couldn’t get enough purchase with my hands to take much weight with my arms.

Our head of house nodded in appreciation.

The hook was uncomfortable, but not painful exactly, just a steady, unrelenting pressure inside me.

My dom went to his collection of tools and ***********ed a flog that looked similar to the one I had used on him. He stepped up and began flogging me, starting with the outside of my thighs. Every strike moved me enough to feel the hook sliding in my ass, like I was being slow fucked by a thick cock in the ass while he was flogging me.

Something spattered on the floor as he worked his way up my sides. My pussy was leaking. The hook was working something deep inside of me, making me produce sexual fluids even more rapidly than usual. My stitches gleamed with pussy juice. As I watched another drop fell from my cunt.

I moaned as the flogging grew more intense. My thighs and hips glowed red from the constant barrage. My cunt was dying to be struck, but he avoided even grazing it. He moved up to my stomach. Every strike burned. He avoided my breasts, likely to avoid opening up the stitches.

“Do you want your cunt flogged?”

“Yes…please.”

He began to flog my inner thighs, working his way between them with firm strikes that left temporary stripes from my knees to my pussy. But no farther than that. He still left my dripping cunt untouched.

“I want you to fuck yourself on the hook.”

The flog just barely grazed my seam. Just a touch, a promise.

I raised myself up as much as I could and brought myself back down, the hook pumping my ass. Fluid poured from my hole, puddling on the floor beneath me. I had never seen so much come out of anyone. I fucked myself on the hook, watching juice trickling out of my pussy. It felt incredible.

The crowd was enjoying too. I listened to them as I slid up and down on the hook.

“I want that…”

“I bet she cums a river…”

“Look at how she’s taking it…”

He put his hand on my stomach to stop me.

“Good. You’ve earned a treat.”

I was trembling with lust as he drew back the flog and brought it down hard on my pussy seam. I cried out in pain and surrender. I felt my pussy spasm, just shy of ejaculating. The next one would do it.

I waited, but he made no move to offer me a second strike to my desperate, hungry cunt.

I moaned in frustration.

“Not yet.”

He returned the flog to the table and picked up a handful of small packets.

“Have you ever considered being pierced?”

He opened a packet and pulled out a thin single-use needle with a plastic base. My pulse quickened. I shook my head.

“Then I guess having your cunt pierced will count as a special surprise.”

He angled the needle between my sewn pussy lips and firmly pushed it through from the inside out. I bellowed in pain through clenched teeth. My ass gripped the hook. A deluge forced its way out of my tiny, aching hole.

Before I could fully recover, a second needle through my other side joined that one. I felt a spasm inside of me in response to the pain. Whatever I might have thought, my cunt couldn’t get enough of this. I rocked slightly on the hook, feeling pleasure in my ass, no doubt in contrast to the pain in my infibulated cunt.

Another needle pricked my skin, going through the channel created by the destruction of my clitoral nerve. It was joined by one from the opposite direction. Fluid spattered out of me. I moaned and writhed from the sensation.

“Last one.”

He placed the tip of the needle against the stitched place that marked where the base of my monster clit had been and angled it downward toward my pussy, the direction in which I still had significant sensation. I keened from the pain of it as the needle went deep into me.

“Good girl,” he said, going back to the table and picking up a riding crop.

I lifted my head and saw that everyone in the room was watching with rapt attention as they rubbed, tugged, squeezed, or fingered themselves.

He brushed the crop against the plastic tips, rattling them like beads and setting off sparks of pain and pleasure. I squirmed as he lightly tapped each needle in sequence. He spent extra time on the last one, moving it back and forth. Low moans of pain escaped through my lips.

Then he began hitting me with the crop, teasing no longer. He struck the bottom of my seam, away from the needles, several times before working his way up.

He used firm strikes on my seam, hitting the needles as he belabored me with the crop. I could feel them move with every stroke. I writhed, fucking myself on the hook, as he struck over and over again. I was getting closer and closer to orgasm. I tried desperately to hold my ejaculation in, wanting to visibly cum, not just feel it inside me.

“…yes,” I gasped as he brought the crop down on the fifth needle, using harder and hard strikes.

I jolted as he yanked out one of the needles in my labia. Then the other was jerked free.

He continued tapping the needle like a nail with a hammer as he pulled the other two free with considerable force. I was moaning in ecstasy from the sensation, so close to orgasm…

In a swift move, he pulled the last needle out and brought the riding crop down with maximum force on my seam in hard, unrelenting blows.

I felt the crop snap in half against my pussy as I came. A torrent of cum squirted out of my hole as I screamed over and over again from the force of the shattering orgasm. My body convulsed under its power. In an instant, my feet lost their purchase and I fell, held only by the cuffs on my wrists and the hook in my ass. I ejaculated again and marveled at the lake of cum that had formed beneath me.

As the orgasm ended, my body went limp and I listened as the room around me filled with the moans and cries of more than a dozen people cumming at once. I felt my pussy spasm, trying to ejaculate again, but I was empty.

I raised my head just enough to watch the nurse masturbating with the broken crop, rubbing it hard against his slit. My head drooped again, missing his grunted cum.

A huge pair of hands hoisted me up and got my feet back into place. I couldn’t do much to help them. I was fuzzy and exhausted. His hand squeezed my pussy.

“Assist!” barked the head of house.

A man with cum slowly dripping down his leg and an infibulated woman dashed to help him get me off the cross.

My wrist cuffs came off first. The head of house supported me on his shoulder while the hook was disconnected from the cross.

I protested weakly when they began to pull it out of my ass. Instead of yanking it out, they slowly fucked me with it, pulling it a little farther each time until it finally popped free. Two fingers took its place and pumped my hole until I relaxed again.

My ankles were released next. He hoisted me onto his shoulder and carried me to one of the wider benches. The leather felt soft and warm beneath me as he put me down. The other man helped position me comfortably.

“That was wild,” I mumbled as the master of the house straddled the bench and my thighs.

He examined my seam and the places I had been pierced. I was coated with a thick layer of my own sticky cum. Sliding back, he brought both my legs up onto his shoulders and examined my ass as well. For a moment, I thought he might clean my sensitive pussy, but instead, he put my legs back down and gently patted my well-used vulva.

“That wasn’t a lot by house standards, but it was impressive for a neophyte’s test. You did well.”

“Thanks,” I said groggily. “What am I then?”

“I’ll inform you of the results soon enough,” he said, leaving the bench. “If anyone wants this, she’s yours to clean. Bring your appetite for cum.”

I lay there and watched several men and women take turns licking the cum from my pussy. I was too well-satisfied to do more than lie back and enjoy their lips and tongues on my cunt and inner thighs.

My attention drifted to the nurse where he stood cleaning the tools he had used on me, the broken riding crop lying in the pool of my cum under the cross.

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